Resuscitation

Wind screamed, bellowed, caved in my eardrums to the point of bloodletting inside of my head. The altitude dipped alarmingly, crushing, painfully cut the levels of acceptance. This pointy piece of metal known as a plane, something meant to fly and soar, was sinking like a submarine...with me inside gripping the yoke and screaming into the clamor of wind and staring wide-eyed but too scared to cry. I braced for impact.
When the chute pulled my inert, dumbed ass out of the top hatch I still screamed, still stared, still gripped air like there was a steering yoke in my hands. My hollering voice broke and I finally blinked my eyelids. I moved my gaze to see the explosion of Hell-orange and red and yellow and bright white spray licking flames against the surrounding darkness. I finally breathed in deeply and understood that I was floating downward, but at a sharp angle. This raging windstorm beat against my feeble parachute cloth and sent my lucky-ass into a new situation of danger.
Toothpick arms bent the harness guidelines to no avail amid the heavy downward pulls of the banking windstream and I pulsed the adrenaline of fear into my tired blood vessels anew as I drifted over pointy steeples and antennas, electrical wires, a large building. I was nearing ground with an accelerated force wind and no control and wild contortions of helplessly gyrations. I looked ahead to the large train tracks hoisted high on an elevated bridge over a deep gorge. I looked to the side and saw no land and the wind sent me directly to the tracks, cracking my midsection into the planted side and knocking loose a tooth as my face bounced awkwardly off of a metal track clamp.
But I was briefly grounded, my chute lines tangled in the edges of the crossbars of the tracks, and the wind swept my body bouncing over the opposite side of the narrow span of tracks. I spun in mid air, frantic grabs for the foundation of structure rose unconsciously inside of me and I crawled back onto the tracks. I fearfully clutched the tracks of the train as the wind whipped my chute and buffeted me, while one hand reached for the strap releases. I somehow released one side of the harness and the chute fairly ripped the other side from my frame as I fought with gritted teeth to cling to the span of wood separating me from free descent into the swirling blackness of river far below me. Watching the chute that saved my life, and nearly took my life as well, puff off rapidly into the surrounding night sky, I clutched the tracks with both arms and closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I planted my face against the gritty, greasy rails and nearly puked my guts out as I said a brief prayer of gratitude for protection.
I must have laid there for several minutes, breathing and absorbing my blessing of deliverence. My arms were robotic; I locked onto those steel rails with the fear of mortality and my muscles finally began to cramp and protest. I was still unsure of my foundation high on that archway over the water and depth of death from my battle with the parachute-ripped winds. I chose to inch my way toward the side of land my head was currently facing, tears flowed from my tightly-closed eyelids and the night sky was so close to me here on this crazy bridge of tracks above the abysm...I just barely could move my form from each desperate clutch toward anywhere. I sighed deeply in the whip of the fresh air and listened for some voice of direction. That's when I heard the chugging of the train's engine.
I was up and running, trying to catch each tie with a sure footfall, but I slipped immediately and one leg hung through the tracks like a limp branch. My thigh was scratched and I smashed my balls, but I just hoist myself up and ran forward with abject fright. The train's horn sounded behind my scramble and my eyes fought to discern track tie from downward inky blackness and my legs sought a pattern: I found it! Two strides was the placement of the cross ties. I would half jump, land, leap outward far, land...I skipped one in-between. I ran with all my concentration, like a football player training on the rings of tires, pumping and pushing myself. The rails started to vibrate and the area around my frame lit up like a spotlight. Now I truly heard the train's horn, felt the resonance of it, understood the dire situation I was involved in.
I had 20 yards to the edge of land, the train was already on the bridge, and my legs were crumbling and confused with fear. One foot missed the mark and slipped into the void between the tracks. I grasped the shaking rails and raised myself, my arms faltered and shook with impending doom. The uncaring hunk of metal and light and overtaking sound bore down on me, bore down on the unseen, non-expected form way out on this outcropping of track. The light overtook my vision and the noise encompassed my brain and the force of the churning engines let me know my puny legs would never get me to my freedom. I panicked again and survival took over.
I swung over the chasm and moved my hands from the train track to the edge of the crossbeam, swinging my legs to grip the other side of the beam as I suspended myself over a black drop of certain pain and doom. My fingers were narrowly missed by the molten hot wheels of steel and now I found my fillings rattling in my teeth, my bones shaken nearly to snapping, my vision so violently shaken that focus was impossible. But luck, by fate, the single engine screamed over my spiderlike form clutching the underside of the expansion leaving my rattled frame to scamper back onto the boiling hot rails that served as a handgrip.
I wondered if I could die, because maybe I should just go ahead and thrust my beaten body into the reaching gorge...but I had come so far and survived so much. I shakily stood and began the careful picking of crossbeams, hearing the roar of the train fade into the drape of night. I moved toward land, toward solid underfooting.
I craved a cigarette like no man on earth has ever needed one and that is the drive that made my face feel the soft dew on the silent hillside grass while I prayed tearful prayers of thankfulness. This was my resuscitation.